It is all Just Impossible
by sketchymudkipz
Summary: England had just met a girl that shared her dreams that perished when she laughed.


I was bored, okay. And London Blitz appeared randomly in my inspiration list.

**Characters: **England. And this little random German kid.**  
**

**Warning:** Weirdly written grammar, and oh, short drabble.

**Disclaimers: **Himaruya gets the credit for Hetalia.**  
**

**Summary: **England met a little girl who shared her dreams that perished just when she laughed.**  
**

"Why do they call this 'the Blitz' again?"

Arthur Kirkland stood up straight, watching the smokes barging in, eating the sunlight away. He was not coughing; he didn't bother to. Rising everywhere else in London, it was clear that the smokes were still hungry. _Ah, no_, Arthur thought. _No, the smokes weren't as hungry_.

The bombers were.

He didn't bother rubbing his eyes. He looked straight to the sky. He didn't expect to see the rain skydiving; neither he expected to see snow fall like a white ghost. He expected one thing for sure—but no, he didn't want the bombs to drop either. Nor ashes, fire, explosions—you name it. He didn't expect to have only ninety-two guns to defend his country too. Only God knows when would they send more ammo to create a fire fortress. Arthur still hoped, though, the defenses would advance rapidly.

"Is it bloody flashy? Is it... glamourous? Blitz just didn't seem to be the right word." His fingers fidgeted. "Ugh, my head is fucked up with this bullshit. Quit buggerin'."

Arthur jolted a bit when something softer than butterflies collided with the trousers covering his calf, which, he didn't expect, came form a small, caked-in-dirt, shaking hand. He looked down, adjusting both his seeing sense, blurred from the constant bomb raid smokes, and hearing senses, deafened from the roaring sound of the explosion. Ah, a little girl. He heard her whimpering.

"N-nein...T-the explosions l-looked... looked more like... lightnings. That's... that's w-what Vati said..."

'_Nein_'?

Arthur set up his eyes to match the eye level of the little girl's, to the point where he had to squat. He observed her. Short, unkempt hair rested on her head, dirt plastered on it. Her clothes was a mess too, he can even see the ripped part of her sweater; located at the very end of her sleeves. She clutched tightly on her skirt, for now she released her faint grip on Arthur's trousers.

She was very young.

"Vati?" Arthur inquired. The girl nodded nervously.

"He... he always hated war."

Arthur smiled, a soft, pure smile. He was surprised by himself—he doesn't show pure smiles in wars. "An' yourself?"

"I... I hate it too."

Both of them sat on the side of a wreckage... a wreckage of what was once... a _home_. She pointed at it.

"There lies my Vati." She gestured her hand at the piled wood and bricks. She smiled. "I don't want him to be alive right now."

Arthur blinked. Not a typical little girl. "Why?"

"He would be a zombie then," she nervously laugh. "That's what they say in books. They call people rising up from the dead 'zombies'."

Both of them let the wind eat up the sound and produce a silent shrilly blow through their faces. He could hear no people running, screaming, yelling, nor bombing. He felt that this was a rather good time for a girl to have a conversation outside a... house. The girl cast her eyes to Arthur.

"I wish this would end soon," the girl's eyes were clear. "So I can eat yoghurt again and laugh at my bruder's jokes."

She gulped away all her fears. "I wish this would end just like how they end stories in fairy tales,"

"Happily ever after?" Arthur interrupted.

"Yes, happily ever after." The girl's face seemed to lit up a bit. "I wish... I wish people wouldn't have to suffer anymore. I wish flowers would bloom on where dead people lie."

Arthur nodded, agreeing with her. But somehow, he felt a strange tingling feeling and squinted his eyes.

He saw white light.

"I wish it would end soon so I can still grow up," she laughed, "I wish I have just enough time to be a doctor. I want to help people very much."

_Was that_—?

Arthur heard people's scream, and he can see the white light pushed away everything—everything off from its way. He can hear the hysterical shrieks of help; he can hear the howling of pain. He can see the white light making its way to him and the little girl; the one he concerned about. He didn't mind about himself, it would heal fast, for he's a nation after all, but the girl? Didn't she just confess her desired dream? Wasn't she laughing right now?

_No! Don't end your laughter like that!_

All was void, all was silent, and all was blinding. Arthur, jaws tight, clenched his fists and tried not to break any of his bones.

For one moment, he could hear a faint whispering.

'_But it is all just impossible, isn't it?'

* * *

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The End~_  
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End file.
